The Hunter and The Geek
by Clare McGee-Novak
Summary: Dean Winchester is anything but your average hunter of the supernatural, and his whole world turns upside down (once again) when he meets NCIS special agent Timothy McGee. Rated M for further chapters.
1. Chapter 1

"Another...Shot, please," Timothy McGee's slurred voice rang out, his hands trembling as he slammed the upside down shot-glass onto the bar.

"Hey, buddy. I think you've had enough," A man's voice said from beside Tim.

"I know I've had enough. Which is why I need more," Tim replied, running his long fingers through his brown hair.

"Someone gets this drunk when they either want to kiss a girl, or kill a man. Which are you planning on doing?" The man asked.

"I can hardly call myself a man," Tim turned, his sparkling green eyes meeting a pair of the same color.

The man didn't respond, just merely looked Tim up and down.

"I'm Tim, Tim McGee. Though I don't know if you want to know a dead man's name," Tim lifted his hand, and extended it towards the man who graciously shook it.

"Dean Winchester. You're not a dead man yet, Tim. And you won't be one for a while, if I have anything to do with it," Dean pulled his hand back and stuck it inside his leather jacket that fit nicely over his broad shoulders.

He pulled out a wallet, opened it, and placed a fifty-dollar bill on the bar.

"I don't think your one beer cost fifty bucks," Tim raised his eyebrows at Dean's actions.

"No, but you sure as hell drank enough for two men. Fifty should cover it all," Dean stood up and placed a hand on Tim's shoulder, "Come on, I can drive you home."

"What about my car?" Tim stood and towered ever so slightly over Dean.

"I'll drive it. My brother can take my car. Just let me go tell him," Dean said and hurried away.

Tim saw him walk over to a booth that was in the corner of the bar. He noticed a very large man with a computer who Dean was talking to.

The large man nodded to something Dean had said and the two of them started to walk over to Tim.

"Tim, this is my younger brother Sam. Sam, this is Tim," Dean smiled and introduced the large man.

Sam stuck out his hand and extended it towards Tim, who shook it sharply.

"So, Dean's going to drive you home?' Sam pulled his hand back and ran it though his long Thor-like hair.

"Well, I don't really think I," Tim hiccupped, "Be driving in my condition. I'd be harmful to society. Though society is a harmful to itself…Also, I'm not a good drunk."

"Which is why I'm taking you home. Come on, where's your car?" Dean asked, and placed his hand on Tim's shoulder, leading the man out of the bar and into the cold DC night.

"It's the Porsche," Tim replied, breathing deeply as he inhaled the cool air.

"That's a pretty sweet ride, Timmy!" Dean almost ran over to the silver Porsche Boxster and almost hugged the vehicle.

"You probably would have liked my first car even better," Tim grinned and tossed Dean the car keys before climbing into the passenger seat.

"What was she?" Dean clambered into the car, fastened his seatbelt, and put the key in the ignition. He turned it and the car roared to life.

"A 1984 Camaro Z2B 5-speed. My parents bought her for me on my sixteenth birthday," Tim looked out the window and sighed.

"What happened to her?"

"I was trying to figure out how to use the windshield wipers…Then, I woke up in the hospital."

"You crashed?"

"Sort of. A bus hit me. I received a student pass the day I was out of traction," Tim turned and looked at Dean, "My dad almost killed me when he found out I wrecked her."

"Your dad was tough?" Dean pulled out of the parking spot and headed for the main road.

"I don't think he deserves the title of 'dad', but yeah, the Admiral was tough. Sometimes a little too tough…you want to turn here," Tim pointed at a street sigh and relaxed into the seat as the car made a right turn.

"My dad wasn't tough on Sammy and I, but he wasn't around a lot," Dean kept his eyes fixed on the road as he talked.

"Did he w-w-work a lot?" Tim yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"Yeah, the. Family business kept him working a lot," Dean smirked a bit and made a little laugh.

"What's so funny?"

Dean just shrugged and sent a wink at Tim.

After receiving the wink, Tim looked over at Dean and stared intently at his face, not caring if it made the other man uncomfortable.

"Why are you staring?" The car stopped at a traffic light and Dean had the chance to look over at the staring man.

"You have a lot of freckles. I'm trying to count them. But I keep losing count and my vision is a little blurry," Tim replied, shifting his gaze to lock eyes with Dean.

Dean looked into Tim's eyes and saw something that he hadn't seen since he gazed into a different person's light blue eyes.

_Love and trust._

He had only seen those in…

"Dean? The light turned green," Tim smiled softly and waved his hand in front of Dean's face.

Dean quickly turned his face and started to drive, his cheeks burning a deep red and his pulse racing.

The rest of the drive was done in complete silence, and Tim simply patted Dean's thigh to show that they had arrived.

Before Tim could pull his hand away, Dean quickly placed his on top and squeezed the long slender fingers that easily danced across computer keys.

Their eyes met, passion burning in both. They both leaned in so that their faces were only two or three inches apart.

Dean had been in this position many times before with the blue-eyed man.

"You're drunk, so I don't want to do this unless you want to do it," Dean leaned in, pressing his lips to Tim's ears.

"So, Timmy, am I going to be sent home alone?"

"My bed's big enough for two," Tim whispered, moaning slightly as rough lips attacked his neck.

The two barely had barely closed the apartment's front door before Dean was quickly pulling off Tim's shirt. He ran his hand over a small scar that was on his left abdomen and questionably looked up at Tim.

Tim shook his head and just threw Dean's jacket onto the couch before roughly pulling him to the bedroom.

The two men were so focused on each other that they didn't hear the distant ringing of Dean's phone that was in his deserted jacket.

They also didn't hear the buzzing that indicated Dean had gotten a text from his brother, which is too bad. Sam really needed help.

Dean was too interested in the green-eyed wonder to even remember why the two brothers had stopped into that bar in downtown D.C.

Hell, he couldn't care less if Sam and a couple angels were fighting for their lives.

Which was exactly what they were doing.

But from the sounds in the bedroom, Dean had other things to do. And he certainly was doing those other things quite well.

* * *

**Okay, so this is my first crossover ever. **

**Don't worry, it will get better. Hopefully... **

**Updates will be every two weeks or so, I have two other stories that also need to have writing done..**

**Reviews are appreciated. Criticism is greatly accepted. Ideas are helpful.**


	2. Chapter 2

Tim was used to waking up alone. It was a normal occurrence for him.

After all, whom would he wake up to? He's not exactly the type to bring girls home, mostly due to the fact that he didn't like the opposite fact, but also due to the fact that no one ever seemed to notice him.

So when Timothy McGee awoke in the morning, he was a bit shocked to find a gorgeous man asleep next to him. His brain was still getting over the alcohol and took a few moments to register who the man was, why he was in his bed, and most importantly, why they were both naked.

When Tim finally remembered what had happened the previous night, his face turned redder than a tomato.

He jerked on the quilt that was a few inches away and quickly covered up his bare chest.

The movement aroused the sleeping man and he turned over, looked drowsily up at the blushing Tim and smiled, "Morning, Timmy."

Tim turned even redder and tried to move backwards on the bed. However, he was too close to the edge and he fell off the bed, making a loud 'plop' on the ground.

Dean laughed and readjusted himself so that he was looking down from the edge of the bed, "All the fun's up here."

"I…I usually don't take anyone home after knowing them for less than an hour and then…Uh, sleep with them. I'm not that kind of a person," Tim said quickly.

"I know. From what I know, you're one of the few decent people left on this Godforsaken planet," Dean climbed off the bed and extended a hand to Tim.

He graciously accepted Dean's hand and Dean then pulled him to his feet, causing the quilt that Tim had wrapped around himself to fall to the ground.

"Hellooo there," Dean looked between Tim's legs and grinned wildly.

"Oh God," Tim covered his face and burst into laughter.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed and just stared at Tim, smiling when Tim collapsed onto the floor, still laughing.

Dean was having a feeling that he hadn't felt in a while…

He felt happy, genuinely happy. And all because of the man he had met in the bar.

"Oh s-s-shit," Tim pulled himself up from the ground and tried to stop his laughing.

"What?" Dean stood up and talked in an alarmed tone.

"I have to get to work…" Tim said, rubbing his face and standing up completely.

"You can't skip?" Dean pouted and crossed his arms across his chest.

"I truly wish I could, but my boss doesn't really like me. He'll have my skin if I skip without notice," Tim shuffled over to his closet and opened the doors, grabbing a striped black shirt and a pair of black slacks. He placed them next to Dean on the bed and moved over to his dresser where he pulled a pair of underwear and socks out of a drawer.

"You can't call in sick?" Dean asked.

"Uh, no. Last time I pretended to be sick, things did not go well at all…"

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you when I have more time," Tim smiled and placed a kiss on Dean's cheek as he picked up his clothes and headed for the bathroom.

Dean blushed a bit and raised his hand to place it where the man's soft lips had touched.

"There's food and beer in the fridge, help yourself!" Tim shouted from the bathroom, and Dean faintly heard a shower turn on as he walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

After finding the food and beer, Dean headed into the living room where he found his coat hanging off the side of the couch. He also found his pants and boxers, which he slipped into quickly.

Dean plopped down onto the couch and reached into his coat pocket, grabbing his phone. He flipped it open and was surprised at what appeared on the screen.

Ten missed calls from Sammy.

Twelve missed texts from Sammy.

"Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn!" Dean exclaimed when he flipped through the texts, and they all said basically the same thing, '_Dean, help! We really need you here,_' and '_Dean, call me. Where are you?_'.

"Shit," He cursed again and jumped off the couch, trying desperately to find his shirt.

He found it in a bundle and on top of what seemed to be Tim's computer boxers.

Dean allowed himself a smile while putting his shirt on as he remembered taking off those boxers to reveal a beautiful prize.

"Tim! I've got to go…Listen; I'm leaving my number. Do not hesitate to call!" Dean yelled loudly and quickly wrote down his digits on a piece of paper he had found.

He placed the paper on the kitchen counter and headed for the door.

Once outside and around a main road, Dean silently cursed himself out.

He had forgotten that Sam had the Impala.

"He needs to get his own car…Taxi!" Dean stuck out his hand and waved down a taxi, which he quickly climbed in and told the driver where to go.

It took less than twenty minutes to get to the small motel where the boys had set up base and Dean quickly paid the driver once the car had stopped.

The motel door opened just as Dean was about to insert his key into the lock.

"What the hell, Dean," A very pissed off moose stared down at Dean.

"I don't know," Dean replied, pushing his way past his brother and throwing himself onto one of the beds.

"You weren't supposed to spend the night with him. We had a hunt! You knew that!" Sam slammed the door and turned on his brother.

"Sammy, I'm sorry. That's all I can say. I'm sorry," Dean turned on his back and looked at Sam.

"…He better have been damn good in bed," Sam walked towards the back of the room and sat down at the table where his laptop was.

Dean turned red and turned back onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow.

"And you're bringing him out to dinner sometime!" Sam said.

* * *

"McGoober! Your work isn't on your phone! Gibbs will kill you if he walks in on you dilly-dallying," Tony DiNozzo's sharp tone interrupted Tim's thoughts.

He had been staring at his phone screen since he had started work.

Tim had sent Dean a small text saying hi and giving him his number, and Dean had replied within minutes.

And it was the reply that was distracting Tim.

**Sorry for running out on you. Younger brothers can be a bit needy.**

**Can I make up for my disappearance with dinner? I'd like to get to know you while you're not drunk.**

**Also, we need to talk about why you were drinking so much…**

**I hope your boss hasn't killed you yet, and I hope I'm not bothering you.**

**Anyway, yes or no to dinner?**

**-Dean**

Tim blushed red every time he reread the message. No one had even been this kind or caring. No one.

Tim had just replied with a 'yes' to dinner when his phone was snatched from his hands.

"Hey!"

"Your phone has nothing to do with your work, agent McGee," A surly voice growled.

"Gibbs, please give me my phone back," Tim stood up and held his slightly trembling hand out.

"No," Leroy Jethro Gibbs replied, turning on his heel and headed back to his desk as he pocketed his phone.

"That is a private ce-ce-cell!" Tim stuttered, his face growing redder at the stuttering.

"Then use it in your private time!" Gibbs snapped.

Tim would've made a remark back, but he quickly shut his mouth when he heard a distant buzzing coming from Gibbs's trousers.

Gibbs pulled the phone out and stared at the screen, his eyes narrowing into a glare as he read the words that showed up.

Gibbs threw the phone back at Tim and walked away from his desk, heading for the elevator.

Tim caught the phone and read the message, "_**Great! I can't wait to see you again, Timmy! -Dean.**_"

"What the hell pissed him off so much?" Tony asked from his desk.

"I…No idea," Tim replied as he sat back down and leaned back in his chair.

Why would that message have caused Gibbs to react the way he did? It didn't make any sense…

But, he had other things to think about. Like Dean and dinner tonight.

Especially Dean. Tim enjoyed thinking of Dean.

* * *

**Well. This chapter sucked. For some reason, I have a very difficult time writing Timmy. Hm.**

**Anywho. This chapter was written ahead of schedule because one of my really awesome friends started reading and I really wanted to give her a new chapter to read, so here it is.**

**I apologize if Tim and Dean don't completely seem like Tim and Dean.**

**The next update will probably be a little longer wait time (sorry)**

**Again, reviews are appreciated. They really boost my confidence for writing.**

**Thanks for reading! **


	3. Chapter 3

Tim almost jumped for joy once the clock hit seven p.m. and he finished his last report of the day.

That is, he would've jumped if he had time.

Tim had scheduled dinner with Dean over Tim's lunch break, and the two had decided on meeting at eight at Tim's favorite restaurant, a small Italian place that was run by one of Tim's old teachers from MIT.

"McGee. Can I talk to you before you go?" A voice from across the bullpen caused Tim to look up suddenly from packing his bag.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked back at him, waiting impatiently for an answer that wouldn't really matter.

When Gibbs wanted to talk to you, you talked to him. One does not say no to Gibbs. It's an unwritten rule of the universe.

"Uh…Ye-yeah. Sure, boss," Tim stood up from his seat and swung his backpack over his shoulder.

Gibbs also stood and walked in front of Tim, leading the younger man to the elevator.

Tim stood silently until Gibbs pushed the button for the elevator and stepped inside once the doors had opened.

"I'm in a bit of a hurry, boss," Tim said quietly as he followed the man into the metal box, swallowing dryly once the doors had closed.

Tim felt like he had just signed his death sentence.

That was a common feeling for people who were led into the elevator by Gibbs.

"This'll only take a second, Tim," Gibbs leaned against the left wall and looked Tim up and down.

_Tim_. Gibbs had called him Tim.

He was really in deep now…

"Wh-what is it?" The color had slowly drained from Tim's face as he spoke, and he pressed himself up against the wall opposite of Gibbs.

"After your…date, come by the house. No matter how late. Got it? The front door is always unlocked," Gibbs walked over to Tim and placed a hand on Tim's left shoulder, squeezing softly before exiting the elevator.

Tim watched his boss leave and quickly shook himself from his train of thought, hitting the button that would take the elevator to the garage level.

"What the hell was that all about," Tim rubbed his face and sighed.

Why must things be so strange?

* * *

Dean sat down at the table, shrugged off his jacket, and looked around the restaurant.

When he had first pulled up, the outside had seemed a bit shabby. But once inside, Dean could see why Tim loved the place.

It was a quaint place, about fifteen tables at most, but there was a long bar that ran along one side of the room and almost every single bar stool was occupied.

Almost every single on the tables also had at least two occupants sitting.

Even though the restaurant was full of people, it was amazingly quiet. The people seemed to know to talk in low tones as to not disturb the other tables.

Scanning the room once more, Dean's face lit up as he saw a familiar face walking towards him.

"Hi," Tim said softly as he walked into earshot.

"Hey, cutie," Dean grinned and enveloped Tim in a warm hug.

Tim hugged back and pulled away after a few seconds. He stepped back a foot and looked Dean up and down.

The shorter man was dressed in a simple plaid shirt and the tightest jeans Tim had ever seen.

On most men, they would've looked strange. But on Dean? They looked frickin' hot.

"You look amazing," Tim breathed.

"Same to you," Dean winked and looked Tim up and down in a similar way.

Tim was dressed in simple black jeans and a solid polo that was a gorgeous green.

Dean really thought the shirt made Tim's eyes shine.

"Thanks…it's good to see you again," Tim smiled and sat down in the chair opposite Dean's.

"It's awesome to see you too. Sorry about running out this morning…My brother had left me a few calls and I didn't want him to worry," Dean also took his seat and sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

"No, it's alright. I had to go to work anyway," Tim shrugged.

"How was work?" Dean nodded a silent thanks to the waiter that had just brought them two waters and focused again on Tim.

"Uh…well…it was okay," Tim picked up the menu and flipped it open, skimming his eyes down the specials.

Dean picked up that Tim didn't want to get into details about work, so he quickly changed the subject, "How'd you find this place? It's a bit of a hole in the wall, isn't it?"

"I know the owner," Tim explained, now switching his focus from the specials to the pasta selections.

"How?" Dean had quickly decided on a simple spaghetti and meatballs dish and was now looking intently at the drinks page.

"He was an old college professor. Taught me almost everything I know about writing," Tim placed down the menu, "I think I'll get the pasta with red sauce. Oh, and would you want to share an order of bread sticks? They're amazing. And homemade."

"Yeah, bread sticks sound awesome. Did you say he taught you how to write?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. I'm, um, kinda a writer," Tim blushed and took a sip from his water.

"Really? That's awesome! Have you had anything published?"

"Yes, but I doubt you've heard of it."

"Try me. My brother practically reads any book he can get his hands on and then describes them to be in detail," Dean said.

"Deep Six is the name," Tim replied.

"…You're Thom E. Gemcity? Sam talked about your book for weeks!" Dean almost shouted, earning glares from surrounding tables.

"Really? Wow. That's…Awesome," Tim grinned.

Dean almost blushed and smiled back at the man before him.

It truly had been a while since Dean had felt this… Secure with another person. Excluding Sam, of course. Dean always felt secure with Sam.

The rest of the dinner consisted of silence, except for the occasional remarks about how amazing the food was.

Around ten, Dean and Tim found themselves with full stomachs and bright moods.

Once the bill had been paid and Tim had given his old professor a hug, the two had found themselves wandering along in the cool fall air.

"I hate to cut this date short," Dean slid his hand into Tim's and squeezed.

"But you've got to go," Tim finished for him, returning the squeeze.

"Sam has me on a curfew…" Dean replied sheepishly.

"It's alright. I've got to get home also," Tim sighed and stopped walking.

Dean turned and stepped in front of Tim, stepping up slightly onto a curb so that he was the taller one.

Tim looked up at him and laughed, "Why Dean, you're so tall!

"Shut up and kiss me," Dean grinned.

Tim leaned up and stood up on his tiptoes in order to touch his lips to Dean.

Dean leaned down, deepening the kiss, causing Tim to moan softly.

Sadly, the kiss was cut short by Dean's phone vibrating.

Dean pulled it out of his pocket, his lips now moving down Tim's neck as he stepped off the curb.

He quickly checked the caller ID and swore.

"Someone go over their curfew?" Tim joked.

"Sadly, yes." Dean pouted.

"Don't worry, you haven't gotten rid of me quite yet," Tim leaned down and planted a last kiss on Dean's lips before stepping back.

"Next time I'll lock Sam in the motel and steal his phone. Then we won't be interrupted," Dean smirked.

"Call me!" Tim yelled before disappearing around the corner with a goodbye wave.

Dean laughed softly to himself and walked off to where he had parked the Impala.

Tonight had been awesome. Really _awesome._

(Maybe he did say that too much…)

* * *

**Sorry for the longer wait than usual. Sadly, that might be the normal update time. :(**

**Anywho. I think this chapter went well. What do you think?**

**Next chapter will be fun**

**Remember, reviews make a happy writer, and a happy writer writes more often. So, review! :D**

**Happy Thanksgiving week to all my fellow Americans! Don't eat too much pie.**

**See you guys in a bit!**

**(Just a reminder, if you read my other stories there's a chance that you might receive a unicorn for Christmas or Hanukkah.  
It's a slim chance, but it's still a chance)**


	4. Chapter 4

"How was your date?" Sam's sleepy voice asked from one of the motel beds as Dean turned on the light and closed the door.

"It wad great. Thanks for cutting it short," Dean scowled, making his way to the unoccupied bed.

"You're just going to go to bed?" Sam sat up in the bed, his hair sticking up on the side of his head and resembling antlers.

"Do you want details of something? Should I tell you what I ate for dinner?" Dean started undressing; taking off his jacket, button up shirt, pants and shoes before climbing into bed with just his boxers and undershirt on.

"I just want to know how it went. You haven't been on a date since...Well, you know," Sam said.

"You can say his name, Sammy," Dean mumbled, shifting on the bed so that he was turned away from his brother.

"I know. I just, I don't know, don't want to confirm that… Cas is, well, you know," Sam awkwardly ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"It's already confirmed! He chose Crowley over us again! It's done. Cas is with that bastard demon and there's nothing we can do about it," Dean said sharply.

"Dean…" Sam said softly.

"Just go to bed," His brother replied.

And so Sam did.

He laid back down, readjusting his pillow so that he was comfortable before he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Dean soon followed suit, closing his eyes and also heading into slumber. He only prayed that he wouldn't have any nightmares.

He had enough of those in the daytime.

* * *

Tim took a deep breath as he pulled up to Gibbs's house.

The lights were out, but Tim knew that the man inside was still awake.

Hell, he didn't even know if Gibbs ever slept.

Tim hand hesitated to turn the car off and climb out.

Was this really a good idea?

What if all Gibbs did was yell at him? What if he told him how terrible of an agent he is? What if Gibbs told him how much more he liked Tony and Ziva over Tim?

Tim shook his head and turned the Porsche off.

He had to think positive.

This was most likely just a casual work related meeting. Tim had probably just made a typo in a report and Gibbs merely wanted to correct him and show him his mistake.

Yes, that was all.

Climbing out of the car, Tim pocketed his keys and ran a hand though his hair, ruffling it so that it stuck up in certain parts.

It didn't look like he hadn't brushed his hair in a week, it just made it seem like he had, well, ruffled his hair.

"Come on, Tim. You can do this. You're a federal agent. Your boss shouldn't scare you," He took a deep breath as he walked up to the front door and knocked.

Silence.

Maybe he wasn't home? Tim prayed for that to be true.

But then he remembered that this was Gibbs. And Gibbs never makes a meeting without the intention of being there. Especially considering that the meeting was at his own house.

Tim was so caught up in his personal thoughts that he didn't notice the door opening. Nor did he notice the sharp blue eyes that were looking at him with an intense stare.

"When the door's unlocked, you're welcome to just walk in," A surly voice growled, shaking Tim from his thoughts.

"I k-know. I just didn't realize that I was allowed to do that," Tim replied softly, looking down slightly at Gibbs and taking a small step backwards.

"Why wouldn't you be allowed?" Gibbs asked, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded against his chest, blocking the 'NAVY' on his sweatshirt from view.

"Well I'm not Tony or Ziva, sir," Tim said.

Gibbs glared at the 'sir' but let it pass.

"I know you're not Tony or Ziva. That doesn't mean you can't come in without knocking, Tim."

Tim didn't reply. He just looked down at his shoes.

"…Tim, come on. I've got a boat to sand and I could use an extra set of hands," Gibbs turned on his heels and disappeared into the dark house.

Tim looked up and followed him in, closing the door behind himself before catching up to Gibbs and following him down the stairs to the basement.

There was a half finished boat in the middle of the room and it smelled like sawdust and alcohol.

"Gibbs," Tim said softly and accepted the sandpaper his boss handed him.

"What?"

"Wh-why am I here?" Tim asked as set the sand paper down on a nearby table and sat down on the stairs behind him.

"You tell me," Gibbs replied.

"I don't know, boss. I just don't know why you would invite me over to your house. I mean I can understand you inviting Tony over. Just not me. It's never me…" Tim looked down at his shoes again, his shoulders drooping.

"I invited you over because of that text of yours that I read. The one from that 'Dean'," Gibbs explained as he walked over to Tim, pushing his slightly so that Gibbs could sit on the stair beside him.

"I don't understand why that would bother you," Tim said.

"It bothered me because I don't know who Dean is. And I'm used to knowing everything about my agents," Gibbs spoke in a low tone.

"But why would you care about anything that involves me?" Tim looked up, turning his head so that he could look directly at the man next to him.

"Tim, you are a part of my team and you are a damn good agent. I care about you because you're part of the family, kid," Gibbs lifted his arm and put it across Tim's shoulders.

"I…Thank you, Gibbs," Tim smiled at him and he could feel a heavy weight being lifted off his chest.

Gibbs didn't hate him. He cared about him. Gibbs said he was a part of the family.

And that's all Tim needed. That's all Tim ever needed. He had just always wanted to hear it before he truly believed it.

"So, tell me about this Dean," Gibbs winked and squeezed Tim's shoulder, causing Tim to smile again and begin to ramble about Dean.

* * *

**Hey guys. **

**Sorry for the long wait. I've been busy and due to a bad review, I lost my motivation for a few days..**

**But, I'm back now. And updates should become more regular.**

**I realize that Gibbs didn't really sound like Gibbs and Tim didn't really sound like Tim.**

**They are just very complex characters and it's difficult to get their dialogue to sound like them.**

**Well, reviews are amazing. **

**Thank you for reading and I'll see you soon(hopefully) with a new chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

Tim woke up to the smell of bacon, which surprised him.

He lived alone. Who would be making him bacon?

But as soon as the special agent rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he realized why someone was making him bacon.

First off, he wasn't at home. He was on Gibbs's couch in the living room. And secondly, Gibbs was now yelling at him from the kitchen to 'come and get it'.

As Tim looked up at the ceiling, still waiting for himself to wake up fully, he remembered what had happened last night.

Gibbs had listened to everything Tim said and even offered suggestions for Tim's next date with Dean.

After last night, for the first time in his life, Tim felt like he had a father figure to look up to. And he liked the feeling. He liked it a lot.

"McGee! Let's go! We have a job to get to," Gibbs barked from the kitchen, startling Tim and causing him to roll off the couch and land on the floor with a thump.

"Tim? What the f- Why are you on the floor?" The thump of Tim's body caused his boss to come in and investigate, and the older man was not pleased to see his agent on the floor.

"…You scared me," Tim said as his face turned red and he stood up, directing his gaze down to the floor.

Gibbs let out a small chuckle and shook his head, "Come on, breakfast time."

Tim rubbed his behind and followed his boss into the kitchen.

"Hurry up and eat," Gibbs ordered from his seat at the table where he was already lifting a pancake laden fork to his mouth.

Tim just shuffled his feet and stood there awkwardly.

"What now?" Gibbs asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

It was too early for feet shuffling and awkward standing. After all, he hadn't even had his third cup of coffee yet.

"I kind of have to get home. Jethro's been at the groomers for the past three days and I'm supposed to pick him up in twenty minutes," Tim explained.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and waved his hand, "Well you better get going. And don't forget, be at work by nine."

Tim nodded. It was now eight in the morning. He would have just enough time to pick up Jethro, drop him off at home, and then head to work.

"I guess I'll be off then," Tim said.

"See you at work, son." Gibbs replied, his focus now on reading the sports page of the newspaper.

Tim's face brightened at the 'son' and he left with a grin on his face.

* * *

Sam woke up to the motel room being filled with strange moaning noises.

Once he registered that he was not dreaming, he sat up and looked around the room.

When his eyes fell on his brother's bed, Sam really wished this were a dream.

Dean was humping his bed and being quite loud.

Sam's upper lip twitched as he pulled the covers away from his body and stood up, stretching out his arms.

Bitch-face initiated, Sam walked over to the other bed, and slapped the back of Dean's head, causing the older brother to jerk around on the bed for a few moments before turning onto his back and glaring up at his slapper.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean snapped as he sat up in bed and rubbed the back of his head.

"Excuse me for not wanting to listen while you had a dirty dream and frickin' humped the bed!" Sam snapped back.

"I was not!" Dean said, reacting as if he had just been accused of the worst possible thing ever.

"You were too," Sam said, crossing his arms cross his chest and frowning loudly at his brother.

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

"I was not!"

"Yes you were!"

"I was not, you bitch."

"You were too, you jerk."

"Alright, enough!" Dean held up his hand and sighed.

"We're acting like kids."

"Well you're the size of one," Sam replied, puffing out air from his nose and sitting down on his bed.

"Hey, not everything is kid sized. I happen to be a very full grown man in a certain area," Dean said in defense.

"Okay, ew. Can we just forget the past two minutes?" Sam rubbed his face with his hands and shook his head at his brother.

"I'm fine with that," The older man nodded in agreement and laid back down, pulling a blanket over his shoulder as he closed his eyes.

"Hey! I didn't mean you could go back to sleep," Sam threw a pillow at Dean, who groaned loudly and pulled the blanket over his head.

"Why the hell do I have to get up? Why can't I just sleep?" Dean grumbled through the blanket.

"Because we have some research to do. And I don't want to listen to you during another one of your dreams!" Sam said.

Dean sat up and tried to throw the pillow back at Sam. Sadly, he missed and hit the framed picture that was on the wall behind his brother.

"Nice going," Sam muttered as he quickly stopped the picture from swinging.

"What do we even have to research anyway?" Dean asked grumpily as he pulled himself out of bed and ran a hand through his rumpled hair.

"…You're kidding, right? I mean, I know it's early. But seriously?" Sam looked at his brother with an incredulous look.

"Let's just say I've had other things on my mind, okay?" Dean rubbed the back of his head and shuffled his way over to the mini kitchen portion of the room.

"Yeah, about one of those other things…" Sam said slowly, trying to think of the words he was going to say next.

"What?" Dean opened the mini fridge and pulled out a slice of apple pie and a water bottle.

"I think we need to talk about Tim," Sam said, walking over to his brother and sitting down at the table where they had set up their computers.

Dean looked warily at his brother before walking over and sitting down across from him, "Then let's talk."

* * *

**Hello once again, my lovely readers.**

**Happy to know that I haven't fallen off the edge of the Earth? I hope so.**

**I do apologize for the very long wait. I've been busy with school, sports, family, and a lot of other junk.**

**I hope some of you are still reading, and I really hope that I can get a new chapter in before long.**

**FYI, for most of February, I will be in Australia and New Zealand on a cruise. Which means I may or may not have wifi.**

**If I end up not having wifi, I will update with possibly two or three chapters once I get home.**

**Reviews are always loved. **

**So are your own ideas.**

**See you next update.**


	6. Chapter 6

"Tony. Please tell me that isn't what I think it is," Tim whined as he saw his coworker approaching the bullpen with a very large stack of folder.

The team had spent the entire day so far by going through cold cases. So far, they had taken seven coffee runs, suffered four paper cuts each, and twice contemplated asking Abby to give them a mild poison so they could skip the rest of the work day.

When hearing of his complaining agents, the Director came down to the bullpen and asked if they would rather had a dead marine or go over a few case files. They all of course agreed that the case files were better.

Though Tony had made a remark about how a kidnapping would lighten his mood.

"Sorry, McGoo. Gibbs somehow seemed to find these in the very back of the file cabinet. I really think he's trying to kill us by paper," Tony said as he distributed out the files evenly between the three agents.

"I do not understand why Gibbs is not helping us though. It is almost," Ziva stopped talking to look at her watch, "7:30! We are scheduled to finish work in thirty minutes and I have yet to see him open a single file!"

"You got a problem with me doing other work, David?" Gibbs asked as he walked into the bullpen, a cup of coffee in one hand and a file in the other.

"Gibbs! I, uh, was merely stating that, uh," Ziva trailed off. She really did not have an excuse to tell Gibbs.

"Boss, I think Ziva had some bad coffee today, made her brain go all whacky and make her say stuff that could potentially get her fired if we didn't have such an awesome boss like you," Tony grinned and held up his hand in a thumbs up position.

"Whatever, just go home. Work's over," Gibbs walked over to his desk and sat down.

"Boss, Tony just found a whole new stack of files," Tim spoke up, sounding a bit confused.

"Yeah, and there is a group of interns in the break room who made me spill my coffee. Go give the case files to them," Gibbs explained as he smacked his computer, grunting happily when it came to life.

Tony and Tim looked at each other before shrugging and hurrying to grab their stuff and gather up all their files before catching up to Ziva as she made her way towards the break room.

After they handed the files over to the interns- who all looked like their eyes had flashed before their eyes earlier- Ziva announced that she was going to head to the gym, and Tony and McGee walked to the elevator silently.

"I feel sorry for those interns," Tony said as he slipped his jacket on once they were inside the elevator.

"You? Feel sorry for someone who took all your extra work? Why?' Tim asked as he chuckled.

"They're going to be having Gibbs filled nightmares for a very long time," Tony looked over at Tim and grinned, causing Tim to grin back. When he wasn't being childish or immature, Tony DiNozzo had the most contagious smiles.

"…You free tonight?" McGee stuck his hands inside his pockets and smiled shyly.

"Maybeeee. Why?" Tony drew out the 'maybe' as he raised an eyebrow at his coworker.

"I have someone I want you to meet," Tim beamed as his hand closed around his cell and he got ready to pull it out and make a call.

"I'd love to meet your special somebody, Tim," Tony winked as he exited the elevator once the doors opened.

Tim's jaw dropped slightly, "How'd you know?!"

"By my BFI," Tony called over his shoulder as he walked off towards where his car was.

"Your what?"

"My Best Friend Instinct. See you at the bar on Smith Street in an hour!" Tony waved his hand and disappeared from Tim's view as he turned a corner.

Tim smiled to himself as he also started to walk towards where his car was.

He really hoped Tony would like Dean.

* * *

Dean cursed silently as he felt his cell vibrate in his jacket pocket.

He and Sammy were in the middle of digging up a body, and it wasn't completely dark yet. They were risking a lot by digging in the dim sunlight, but it had to be done.

The body was of an old army doctor whose spirit was terrorizing two kids because they were the great grandsons of one of his enemies.

Putting his shovel against the dirt wall of the grave, Dean dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his cell. The caller ID read 'Timmy'.

"Dean, come on. We've got to finish this," Sam protested as he climbed continued to dig. They were only a few inches away from the coffin but they still wanted to get done as soon as possible.

"Yeah yeah, just one second," Dean put his phone back in his pocket and started to dig again.

They reached the body within two minutes, and they salted and burnt the remains within the next thirty seconds. They then grabbed their shovels and headed for the Impala.

After they had packed away their supplies, Dean tossed the keys to Sam, who caught they with a surprised and confused look.

"You drive back to the motel. I've got a call to make," Dean said and he climbed into the passenger's seat of the car, leaving Sam to climb into the driver's seat and start the car.

"Dean," Sam said cautiously, looking over at his brother and sighing at him.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I remember our talk," Dean waved a hand at his brother as he dialed Tim's number on his phone.

And he did remember their talk. Sam had expressed that he did like Tim, and that he thought the two were a good match for each other, but Sam reminded Dean of how much they move around.

Sam just wanted to remind Dean that he shouldn't get too attached to Tim. After all, those close to the Winchester's don't usually live for long.

"_Hello? Dean!_" A voice in Dean's ear made his thoughts go back to reality and he realized that Tim had picked up on the other end.

"Hey Tim," Dean smiled as he heard Tim's voice.

"_You busy? Want to come out for a drink? I'm here with Tony. You know Tony right? No, you probably don't. Well he and I work together. And we're best friends! But you should come down. We're at the bar on Smith Street. Oh, and bring Sammy!_" Tim started to babble and Dean could tell that the man had already had a lot to drink.

"Sure thing, Timmy. See you in twenty minutes or so?" Dean smacked Sam's arm and mouthed 'bar' after he had spoke to Tim.

"Sounds great! See you then, babe!" The drunk McGee said happily.

Dean smiled as he hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket.

"We still heading back to the motel? Or going straight to the bar?" Sam asked.

"Sammy, we just dug up a dean douche doctor. I think we need showers," Dean replied, looking out the window as he moved his hand up and down with the beat of the song on the radio.

"Motel it is," The younger brother smiled and made a right turn.

* * *

"Well? Are they coming?" Tony asked Tim as he drank a bit from his beer bottle.

Tim nodded happily, bouncing up and down on his barstool and watching the bartender pour him a cup of some orange drink.

"Perfect," Tony said, a smirk growing on his face as his eyes flashed pitch black for a few seconds.

"Just perfect."

* * *

**Well. That took a while. Oops. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. and the little twist at the end ;)**

**Don't forget that reviews and ideas are amazing and I really love reading them!**

**See you next update. **


	7. Chapter 7

Dean walked into the bar and looked around. The place was crowded and Dean had trouble in finding Tim, but then he noticed the young man sitting at the bar with his head on the counter and another man patting his back.

"You see him?" Sam asked as he also scanned the area.

Dean pointed him out and started to make his way through the crowd as Sam easily kept up behind him. Being his size did have its advantage.

"Tim!" Dean said sharply as he finally made his way towards the bar counter and slid between the barstools to stand next to Tim.

"Deannnnn!" Tim's head jerked up and he smiled goofily as he latched his arms around Dean's neck and pulled him down into a sloppy kiss.

"Hey, McFlirt, we are in public here," A cool voice from the other side of Tim caused Dean to pull away and look towards the mysterious speaker.

"Oh, Dean! Sam! This is Tony. Tony DiNozzo! He's Italian. I work with him. He's one of my best friends. He's really cool and he likes movies!" Tim started on a drunken ramble about Tony, as Dean and Sam took seats at the bar and ordered some drinks.

"Uh, so it looks like Tim has had a bit too much to drink. Is everything okay?' Sam took a swig from his beer bottle and looked at Tim with a questioning look.

"Yeah, he's fine. We just had a hard workload today. The boss kept giving us more stuff to do," Tony pulled a new glass of alcohol away from Tim and handed him a glass of water.

"But he's a lightweight drinker. It doesn't take much to get him like this."

Dean looked at Tim with slight concern as the man leaned down and put his head on the counter again.

"McGoogle has two drunk settings; this, very talkative and starting to get sleepy, or very horny. It's always fun to see which setting he goes into," Tony grinned and took a drink from his own glass.

Dean choked a bit on his beer as he imagined an incredibly horny Tim, but then his mind wandered onto a different subject including Tim.

Dean had seen his third setting of being drunk, Tim's depression setting.

They still needed to talk about that a little more.

"So. I know you two just got here and have just finished your first beers, but I think we should get McGoo out of here. I don't want him to puke on the bar. Another coworker of mine did that once and the owner was not happy with us," Tony slid off his barstool, put two twenties on the counter and patted Tim's back.

"It okay with you two if we leave?"

"Yeah, sure. I wasn't really planning on drinking that much anyway. Uh, Dean, how about you?" Sam stood up and looked at his brother.

Dean reluctantly looked at his empty beer bottle but slowly nodded and also slid off his stool, "Let's go; beer's kinda crappy here anyway."

Tony then pulled Tim off his barstool and into a standing position and half guided, half dragged him to the exit.

"He drive here or did you two carpool?" Sam asked as he exited the bar after Tony and looked around the parking lot.

"He drove. Not sure where he parked though…" Tony trailed off and started to also look around for Tim's car.

"We can get it in the morning when he's coherent. We can drive him home," The shorter Winchester brother walked over to Tony and put his arm around Tim's waist, pulling slightly until Tony let go and Dean was Tim's support.

"Dean's gonna take me home? Last time he took me home we got in bed and fu-" The drunk computer geek was cut off by Dean's hand over his mouth.

Sam stifled a small laugh and Tony just shook his head.

"Uh, w-we should probably get going. We have, uh, work and stuff tomorrow," Dean tripped over his own words as he tried to change the subject quickly.

"Alright then. Get him home safety and remind him that he's off work tomorrow," Tony waved at them.

Dean and Sam nodded at him and made their way towards the Impala, Sam now helping Dean to carry Tim who was becoming difficult to carry since Tim was slowly drifting off into an alcohol induced sleep.

"Hey, Winchesters!" Tony's voice shouted from behind them, but the brothers couldn't turn around due to them supporting Tim.

"The boss just wanted me to remind you that your little angel chose him over you two. I think Crowley enjoys having that sweet little piece of heaven as his bitch."

Dean froze. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. He turned his head and looked at his brother who had the same surprised expression.

At the same time, they both dropped Tim (he was too drunk to feel anything as he hit the ground), and turned around. But the Italian was gone.

"Dean," Sam said quickly as he picked the NCIS agent off the pavement.

"Dean! Let's just get out of here."

Dean didn't move. He just stared at where Tony had been standing moments before.

"Dean, think about Tim. We need to go, keep him safe, and get him sober. He might know something or he might've seen something."

At the mention of his boyfriend, Dean snapped back into focus. He turned to face Sam and helped carry Tim the rest of the way back to the car.

Once they had placed Tim in the backseat, Dean reached for the door handle on the driver's side, but his brother stopped him.

"Let me drive, okay?"

"Fine," Dean said in a gruff voice as he walked over to the other side of the car and got in.

They drove back to the motel where they picked up an extra set of clothes and some supplies and they headed to Tim's apartment.

"He's, uh, in bed," Dean yawned as he walked out of Tim's bedroom and into the main part of the apartment where Sam had already lined all the windows and the front door with salt and was now spray painting a devil's trap on the floor.

"Well; I guess we just have to wait till he wakes up," Sam said as he finished the trap and straightened up from his crouched position.

"You can take the couch," Dean nodded at the couch and started to make his way back towards the bedroom.

Sam shook his head and sighed, "See you in the morning."

His brother just waved and closed the bedroom door.

Dean then stripped to his boxers and climbed into bed with Tim who instantly curled up to him.

Dean would find out why a piece of shit demon was so close to his Timmy, and he would gank that mofo as soon as he got the chance.

But until then, Dean would enjoy the few hours of sleep he'd have next to Tim.

* * *

**So, uh, hi.**

**Sorry for the late update. I'll probably never be on time for any of my stories.**

**And I really apologize for this chapter. It was not some of my best work.**

**But the next one should be a good one.**

**Oh, and anyone want to take a guess as to which NCIS co-worker of Tony's threw up on the bar?**

**Well, as usual, reviews are amazing and I really do enjoy reading your thoughts.**

**And if you have any ideas for the future of Dean and Tim, tell me! I'd love to know.**

**See you next update. **


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